


Stress Wishing

by Cinaed



Series: The Best of Carolina The Teenage Witch [21]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sabrina the Teenage Witch Fusion, Djinni & Genies, Gen, Magic, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-12 01:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20163592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: Carolina tries to distract herself from her father's impending visit and her argument with Church by cleaning the basement. She just didn't consider how weird Grey's basement would be.





	Stress Wishing

**Author's Note:**

> This episode was so fun to write. :) 
> 
> Thanks goes out to Aryashi for looking this over and helping me figure out a decent ending for the episode, and to creatrix for the brilliant suggestion of throwing a certain character into the show. 
> 
> Also, please rest assured that while Christina Aguilera's "Genie in a Bottle" comes out a year after this episode is set, I still sang it to myself the entire time I was writing this.

It’s one of those hot August days that Carolina enjoys, because it makes her daily run a little bit harder. She distracts herself with the sensations that come with the heat: the sunlight pressing down like a hand on her neck, the humidity thickening the air so that it feels like she’s swimming instead of running, the sweat stinging her eyes until she blinks it away.

When she gets back to the brownstone, she hesitates on the steps. Can she get away with one more loop around the neighborhood? Before she can test her luck, the front door opens.

Grey smiles. “Perfect timing! Vanessa and I were just discussing what spells you should practice today.”

“Oh,” Carolina says. She trudges into the house and forces a smile at the sight of Kimball on the couch and Church perched on the edge of the love-seat like he wants to escape to his room. She avoids looking at him, feeling a twinge of guilt. They haven’t really talked since she shouted at him. “Great. Can I take a shower first?”

“Of course!” Grey says. If she realizes that Carolina is faking enthusiasm, she doesn’t call her on it. Instead she smiles and adds, “Though change into something you don’t mind getting dirty. Food spells can get messy.”

“Food spells?” Carolina repeats, curious despite herself.

Kimball nods. “We figured you know your dad better than we do. We’ll do some food spells today, and see if you’re ready to do a whole meal tomorrow night.”

“Add a little arsenic to the couscous,” Church mutters. When everyone looks at him, he frowns back. “What? It won’t kill him.”

“I generally don’t poison my guests, James,” Grey says. She hums thoughtfully, tilting her head to the side. “Though sometimes an occasion calls for--”

Kimball coughs. “Let’s keep the meal arsenic-free.”

Carolina stares between Grey and Church, wondering what exactly arsenic does to witches. After a second, she decides that she doesn’t want to know.

* * *

Grey wasn't kidding about the food spells getting messy.

A few botched and semi-successful attempts at meals later, Grey’s called a break and Carolina has retreated to her room to change into her third outfit of the day. She checks herself over in her mirror. She looks less like she’s been doing magic and more like she’s been in a food fight.

“I hate raisins,” she mutters as she plucks a stray raisin out of her hair.

There’s movement from the corner of her eye, and then Church says from the doorway, “At least you didn’t magic up challah and forget the honey.” He offers her a tentative smile.

Carolina feels that twinge of guilt again, mixed with discomfort. When Church hasn’t been sulking that he can’t hide in his room during tomorrow’s dinner, he’s been tiptoeing around her. She wants to apologize for yelling, but whenever she remembers Church and her father snarling at each other, that awful doubt returns. She doesn’t know how to ask if he considered that loophole, and she doesn’t know what she’d do if he had and kept it a secret for months.

Like he can read her mind, his smile fades. Church shifts his weight. “Carolina….”

Carolina doesn’t want to have this conversation. She blurts out the first thing that comes into her head. “I’m going to clean the basement.”

Church blinks at her. “You’re going to what now?”

“Clean the basement,” Carolina repeats. It sounds like a stupid excuse to get away from him, but the more she considers it, the better it seems. It gets Grey and Kimball off her back for a while, it’ll be a good distraction from everything, and Church definitely isn’t going to follow her, if his baffled expression is anything to go by.

“Uh, this basement? Are you sure that’s a good idea? Who knows what she has down there.” When Carolina just nods, Church grimaces. “Have fun, I guess. Don’t get yourself cursed by an evil mummy or something.”

She goes back downstairs, relieved when Church doesn’t follow.

Grey looks up from her crossword puzzle. “Well, you look like a witch on a mission! Are you ready to tackle another food spell?” Before Carolina can say anything, Grey adds, gesturing with her pen, “Also, there’s a raisin in your hair.”

Carolina sourly finds the stray raisin behind her ear. “I was going to clean the basement.”

Grey blinks. It’s clearly not what she was expecting, but after a second’s surprise she looks amused by the idea. “That would be a change of pace from spellwork and homework. Have fun!”

Carolina, studying Grey’s smile, remembers Church’s comment about the mummy. She coughs. “Um, is there anything I shouldn’t bother or touch? Like a cursed mummy or--”

Grey giggles. “A mummy? No, that’s graverobbing, Carolina, and generally frowned upon. Besides, mummy parts, as much as mortals might romanticize robbing pyramids, aren’t particularly magical.” She taps her pen against her lips. “There _is _a room marked ‘Do Not Disturb.’ Just pay attention to that sign and you’ll be fine!”

“And what’s behind that door?” Kimball asks, looking fascinated.

“Oh, a dragon’s egg.” Grey giggles at their expressions. “It’s a good long-term investment! The mother will owe you a debt and you’ll get to keep the baby scales, which, unlike mummies, are _incredibly_ useful in spells. And all you have to do is care for the egg for a mere 600 years!”

Carolina stares. Grey seems completely serious. The idea of spending that many centuries tending to an egg is mind-boggling, but when Carolina glances over at Kimball, Kimball’s actually nodding like this sounds reasonable. “Right,” she says weakly. “I’m going to, uh, avoid that room.”

The basement is surprisingly well lit, but cluttered from floor to ceiling with boxes and strange statues. It probably shouldn’t be unexpected that Grey owns so much stuff. Carolina’s started letting herself keep a few knickknacks besides the bare necessities now that she’s not moving every few months. She can’t imagine what it’s like to have centuries to collect things.

The ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign draws her eye. She’s curious despite herself. What does a dragon egg look like? How is Grey keeping it safe? But she knows better than to peek inside. If Grey thinks it’s important enough to warn her about, it’s probably genuinely dangerous. She gives that door a wide berth.

There’s a thick layer of dust on everything. Carolina sneezes before she realizes that she probably should have brought some cleaning supplies with her. She sneezes again and sighs. If she goes back upstairs, Grey is just going to tell her to use magic. Grudgingly, she points a finger and says, “If I’m going to make the basement less of a disgrace, give me the cleaning supplies I need to clean this place!” As a broom clatters to the ground and sends up a cloud of dust, she coughs and mutters, “Dust first, then the rest.”

She figures out a system quickly enough. Use the broom to knock away the majority of the dust, and then use the dust rag to wipe away the rest. She ends up having to magic up something to cover her mouth so she’s not constantly sneezing or coughing, but despite that and the ache in her back and shoulders as she uses neglected muscles, she welcomes the distraction.

Carolina is halfway through wiping one statue down before she realizes it’s not a statue at all, but an Iron Maiden. She blinks at it and takes a slow step away, leaving that particular job half-finished. She doesn’t peek in to see if it’s been used.

She glances around for the next thing to dust. Something gleams in the far corner of the room, catching the bright lights. When she knocks the dust from the object and picks it up, it turns out to be a large lamp that’s surprisingly heavy. There’s something carved into the lamp, designs like leaves or flames that shine when Carolina blows on the surface and dislodges more of the dust.

She takes the dust rag and gives the lamp a thorough wipe.

The lamp starts to glow. With the glow comes a heat so intense that Carolina drops the lamp with a yelp. The makeshift mask falls from her face as she takes a hurried step back.

The lamp falls an inch and then stops, beginning to spin in a slow circle. It pauses, vibrating faintly, its spout pointed in Carolina’s direction. A muffled voice says, sounding annoyed, “Wow, it’s about time. I’ve had to scratch my nose since the Nixon administration!” Smoke billows from the spout and coalesces into the upper body of a man with short brown hair and a face that would be bland if his brown eyes weren’t glowing like embers.

He immediately scratches his nose, his strange eyes crossing as he sighs in relief. “Much better.”

“Uh,” says Carolina.

He stops scratching his nose and looks at her. Curiosity lights up his face, or maybe that’s just the flames flickering in his eyes. “Yo, dudette,” he says. To Carolina’s relief, he sounds friendly enough. “You’re not the doctor chick. Unless she did a total magic make-over and found some Spring of Youth or something. Last one I knew about dried up after Pompeii blew, though. Total bummer. Well, not for me, genies don’t age, but bummer for you witches.” He tilts his head to the side. “Did she finally remember me and send you down here?”

“Um.” Before Carolina can decide to lie or not, the genie keeps talking.

“But if you’re the one who rubbed the lamp, I should introduce myself. I’m--” He says a long string of incomprehensible sounds, like his name is about thirty consonants and another twenty vowels. “But most folks just cut it down to Vic. So about my wishes. You’re, like, a kid right? It’s hard to tell with humans, but you don’t look like you’ve got your license yet. So I guess that means asking for some easy stuff. Why don't I start us off with something easy peasy, lemon squeezy-- oh, how about a pitcher with unlimited lemonade? I'm thirsty.”

Carolina blinks. “Lemonade?”

“The first of my three wishes!”

“_Your _three wishes?” Carolina has seen Aladdin, thanks to Wash’s sisters. She’s pretty sure that’s not how this is supposed to work. Still, she doesn’t know how powerful real genies are, so she keeps her voice polite as she says, “I heard that genies granted wishes--”

“Mortal propaganda! Seriously, think about it. You guys expect me to jump out of a lamp after who knows how long, with a crick in my neck, and then just grant you wishes? Nope. Not happening, dudette. _You _give me three wishes and then I go catch up on a couple decades of TV. Is Get Smart still on? I loved that show.”

“I don’t watch a lot of TV,” Carolina says carefully.

Vic looks disappointed. “Whatever. So, I wish for a pitcher of unlimited lemonade.” He crosses his arms and stares at her expectantly.

Carolina sighs. “I hate magic so much,” she whispers.

* * *

The problem with the brand name restriction is that knockoff candy never tastes as good.

Church still magics up a Snuckers, because candy is candy, but he makes a mental note to try and wheedle Kimball into buying some actual junk food the next time she goes to the store. He’s seen her stash of Twix. If he didn’t know she kept close track of her candy, he would’ve snagged some for himself. Hopefully she’ll take pity on him. Otherwise he's going to have to wait until school starts and enlist Caboose and Tucker in some candy smuggling.

He takes a huge bite of his Snuckers, making a face around the weird taste of hazelnuts instead of peanuts.

He can’t believe he’s gotten to the point where he’s actually looking forward to school. Being grounded is slowly driving him crazy, he decides. There’s no other explanation. He’s willingly done all of his homework -- out of sheer boredom, but still -- and now he’s impatient for the first day of class.

Thinking of Westbridge makes Church think of Simmons, though, and thinking of Simmons makes him think of magic and cost-benefit analysis. He finishes his Snuckers with a scowl and tosses the wrapper towards the trash can. His scowl deepens as the wrapper bounces off the rim. 

He's so bored that he actually starts to wonder what Carolina is getting up to in the basement. Maybe she’s found some cool stuff he can sell that won’t get him in trouble like the yard sale. Or maybe she’s getting strangled by a mummy. Either way, it’ll be more interesting than staring at his wall.

Grey’s working on a crossword puzzle and Kimball is absorbed in a book, so Church tries to sidle over to the basement door without getting drawn into a conversation. Grey has been having way too much fun with the prospect of Leonard coming for dinner.

He almost makes it. He gets his hand on the door knob before Kimball asks, “You’re helping Carolina?” She sounds skeptical, which is fair, since Church has never done a chore willingly.

He shrugs, not looking at her. “Honestly, I kind of just want to see what's down there.”

“Right,” Kimball says, amused now. "That makes sense." 

He slips downstairs before Grey can add her two cents.

The first thing he hears is an unfamiliar voice saying, “Uh, this is limeade, kid. Maybe third time’s a charm?” and Carolina snapping a frustrated, “Sorry!”

Church knows that tone. It’s the one she uses whenever she fails at magic, where she’s mad over failing but also mad that she has to do magic at all. He picks up speed in getting down the last few steps because Grey and Kimball didn’t mention visitors.

He almost trips on the last step, because now he can see Carolina, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face, half-glaring at a genie. The genie doesn’t look too happy either. “Uh,” Church says through a suddenly dry throat. “I guess Grey didn’t warn you not to rub any weird lamps?”

Carolina turns. Her lips twist a little. A defensive note creeps into her voice. “No. She warned me about that--” She waves a hand towards a door marked ‘Do Not Disturb.’ “--but not about Vic.”

The genie waves at Church. “Hey, dude. Are you better at magic? We’re stuck on wish number one and I really want to go catch up on my shows.”

Carolina turns slightly pink. She looks torn between arguing that she can do it and letting Church help her out and get the three wishes over with.

When she doesn’t say anything, Church says, “Uh, I know a little more about magic. Of course I’ll help.” He gives Carolina a look, hoping she’ll understand that he wants to help her out of this problem.

For a second, Carolina doesn’t meet his eyes and he worries that she’s still too angry to accept his support. Then she does look at him. Some of the frustration radiating off her slowly ebbs, though she still looks annoyed by the situation. She unfolds her arms and mutters, “He wants a pitcher of endless lemonade as his first wish. Should I get my spellbook or--”

“Nah, this is just a trickier food spell,” Church says, hiding his relief. “You probably need a verbal spell too.” He hides his relief when Vic grins and gives him an approving thumbs up. Good. Vic is a chill genie and not a ‘smite and wrath’ genie. They might get out of this okay. “Just focus on the last time you had lemonade, and make up a spell where the pitcher is always full.”

“That’s what I was--” Carolina stops and takes a breath. “Right. Okay. Um, three wishes must now be paid, so give Vic his pitcher of endless lemonade.”

Church winces at the clumsy wording.

Vic looks amused. “I love teen witches,” he says, and grabs the pitcher that pops into existence in front of him. He snaps his fingers, summoning a large glass. Ice cubes clink loudly in the glass.

Carolina’s eyes narrow, and Church can see her visibly resist the urge to ask why she’s doing these wishes when Vic can summon stuff at will.

Church hastily steps closer and nudges Carolina with his elbow. “See? Simple!” he says brightly, and then in a lower voice, “Just go with the three wishes. He’s chill now, but you don’t want to piss off a genie. Unless _you_ want to live in his lamp for two hundred years.”

“But he can do all this himself!” Carolina hisses back.

“Not the point.”

Vic pours himself a glass. He promptly chugs the whole thing. He swallows and looks thoughtful, though Church isn’t sure how much of a taste he got with that quick drink. “Not really a sugar and sweets witch, are you? Not intending to buy a candy house when you grow up?”

“Hey,” Church says mildly. “Rude.” Under his breath he mutters, “_One_ witch makes a candy house and tries to eat a kid, and we all get bad reps.”

Vic laughs. “Calm down, dude, I was just kidding! I just meant that she made it a little sour.” He pours himself another glass. “But it’s nothing some sugar won’t fix. So. Wish two.”

“Sugar?” Carolina asks hopefully.

“Nah, I can get that myself. I was thinking a roomier lamp.”

“Oh, that one doesn’t seem too hard,” Carolina says. Some more of the frustration fades from her expression, though she still doesn’t seem thrilled about being at Vic’s beck and call. She points her finger again. “Vic wants a roomier lamp, so find him something here that won’t feel so cramped.”

There’s an explosion of dust from the far corner of the room. Church coughs and waves a hand in front of his face. He can see something move, but his watering eyes make the object blurry. He hears Vic say, “Yeah, now that looks nice!”

“Unfortunately for you, it’s occupied,” a new voice says.

Church rubs dust from his eyes in time to see a djinn pour himself from an enormous glass lamp. He groans. “Ugh, of course Grey has a genie _and_ a djinn in her basement. Of course she does. Great.” He notices Carolina’s confused look and adds, “Genies and djinn don’t like each other.”

“Why would I like a djinn?” Vic says, scowling. “Like, I’ve never met one with a sense of humor.” He snorts. “And this guy definitely doesn’t. Now I’m remembering why I went into my lamp in the first place. This guy was ruining the party and being a total party-pooper and the doctor lady wanted us to chill out.”

The djinn scowls back. He’s twice Vic’s size, and a brilliant emerald green shade. His muscles bulge as he crosses his arms and grumbles, “I wasn’t being a party-pooper! And it’s hard to have a sense of humor when you’re constantly being mistaken for a genie. I hate being badgered about wishes. We don’t even look similar!”

“So, wish three,” Church says quickly, before the two can start shouting at each other.

Vic turns his scowl on Church. “Wish three? What about my second wish?”

Church shrugs. “You said you wanted a roomier lamp. Didn’t say anything about it being unoccupied. Technically, she got you your lamp.”

The djinn chuckles. “He has a point.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Vic says. He looks at Carolina. “I want a lamp. And not that stupid looking one he’s in.”

Carolina sighs as the djinn strokes an offended hand over the top of his lamp and glares at Vic. “I just wanted to clean the basement,” she says, half under her breath.

“That was your first mistake,” Church says. He grins at her before he remembers she’s still angry with him. His smile turns awkward. “You forgot it was Grey’s basement. We’re lucky we’re just dealing with a genie and a djinn.”

Carolina gives him an unreadable look. Then she squares her shoulders and intones, “For the second wish a new lamp we must acquire, so bring us a lamp that fits Vic’s true desire.”

There’s a flash of blue light. Church blinks, temporarily blinded, and then blinks again when his vision clears, because he’s pretty sure he’s hallucinating. There’s no way that a six-foot tall lava lamp is Vic’s idea of a perfect lamp.

Apparently it is, though, judging by the way Vic’s face lights up and the flames in his eyes brighten. He claps his hands. The lemonade pitcher and glass disappear. “I think you’re getting the hang of this!”

“_That’s_ your true desire?” the djinn says, disgusted. “That is the ugliest lamp I’ve ever seen.”

“Uh, no way, dude, it’s _awesome_,” Vic says.

“It’s ugly,” the djinn insists.

Church can’t help it. He snickers loudly enough that Vic’s burning eyes snap towards him. The laughter dies in his throat at the ire in Vic’s expression.

There’s movement at the corner of his eye as Carolina half-steps in front of him, like she can shield him from Vic’s wrath. Under her breath, she whispers, “Didn’t you say to not piss off the genie?”

Church doesn’t bother to make up an excuse. Instead he pastes on an apologetic smile. “Uh, it’s not that I agree with him, Vic. It’s, just, um. Can’t djinn only tell the truth? That means he definitely _believes_ the lamp’s ugly.”

Vic rolls his eyes, but at least he’s not glaring at Church anymore. A sulky note creeps into his voice. “He’s just mad because mine is cooler.”

“It’s not,” the djinn says. He turns to Carolina. “Do that spell again for me. Once he sees true beauty, he’ll understand.”

“Hey, no free wishes,” Church says before Carolina can react. He probably shouldn’t argue with the djinn since he’s already pissed off Vic, but he’s not going to let the djinn take advantage of her. “She doesn’t owe you anything.”

The djinn sighs. He hesitates, but apparently proving Vic wrong is more important than the problem of being indebted to a witch, because he finally waves a hand and says, “Fine, I’ll owe her a favor.”

“Okay.” Carolina sounds confused. “What does that mean?”

The djinn frowns. “It means I will owe you a favor.”

“Yeah, I understand that, thanks,” Carolina says, with a strained note to her polite tone. “I just don’t know what that means. I’ve never met a genie or a djinn before, so I don’t know what I could ask for.”

The djinn smirks. “Well, I’m far more powerful than him, so you’re lucky I will owe you the favor instead. The favor could be something like preventing people from lying when you’re in the middle of a negotiation, or procuring a rare magical ingredient -- you witches always want those. Once I had a witch ask for the tears from a cyclops, which was a little strange but--”

“Hey!” Vic objects. “Genies are no slouches either! Just because we were smart enough to get three wishes from any witch stupid enough to rub our lamp doesn’t mean we’re bad at favors. I could definitely do better than Mr. Cranky Fancy Pants over there.”

“Want to bet? We can compare favors,” Church says, sensing an opportunity.

Vic laughs. “Whoa, dude, let's not get hasty here, putting the cart before the horse. You still gotta grant me one last wish. Vic's been around the block one too many times to get distracted. I got my eyes on the prize! Now magic up this guy’s awful lamp so we can laugh at it and get back to my third wish.”

The djinn scowls, but doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead he says, “I do have some restrictions for the favor. I don't pick anyone up from an airport. Those places are terrible. I do not provide skills you should learn through your own apprenticeship--”

Vic rolls his eyes. “Dude, no, they do public school now, like all the way until they’re eighteen! And there are some who just never get out of school, ever. They’re called grad students. Get with the times!” He pauses. “Good call on the airports, though.”

Carolina sighs and points her finger. “For the djinn now a new lamp we must acquire, so bring him a lamp that fits his true desire.”

Another flash of blue light, and Church swallows down another laugh. The djinn’s lamp is more like a statue than anything else, and might’ve been almost okay, except for the fact that it was shaped like a horse, the eyes were huge monstrosities of emeralds, and instead of stone the body was made of a bunch of different green gems. The lamp’s flames formed the mane, flickering a pale green glow as smoke trickled from the lamp’s open mouth.

“What?” the djinn says, noticing everyone’s stares. “Horses are magnificent creatures! Much more reliable than cars or trains or, ugh, planes, and--”

“Now _that_ is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen,” Vic says flatly.

Instead of looking annoyed, though, the djinn seems smug. “The outside isn’t as important as the inside, although the outside is glorious, you uncultured swine. Take a look.”

Vic gives him a wary stare, but floats forward, his head disappearing into the mouth of the lamp. His voice echoes weirdly, sounding grudgingly impressed, “Dude, a disco ball? And a pool? Hey, can I change my lamp again?”

“Only as your third wish,” Church says quickly.

Vic’s head reappears. He gives Church a disappointed look. “Aw, come on, dude. Have a heart!” When Church just looks at him, he heaves a sigh. “Witches are so mean. Like, you get into one tiny argument during a party, and suddenly you’re in time-out for thirty years-- oh hey, wait, I’ve got it. Let’s get this party restarted.” He grins broadly.

“Um, what?” Carolina says.

“Summon everyone who was partying with me in ‘69 when that doctor lady put me and this dude in our lamps to think about how trying to strangle each other is a mood-killer,” Vic explains helpfully.

“For once he has a good idea,” the djinn says. Vic looks surprised, and then his eyes narrow when the djinn smirks and adds, “I think everyone will be impressed by my pool.”

“No, dude, it’s gonna be _my_ party--”

While the two begin to argue, Church leans over and whispers, “Do the spell and let’s get out of here.”

“I just wanted to clean the basement,” Carolina whispers back with a scowl. Then she squares her shoulders and says, “Vic’s party was interrupted, but now he wants to have some fun, so bring back his friends from the party disrupted, and the three wishes will be done.”

The basement is immediately filled with people. Church presses up against Carolina to avoid getting an elbow to the face. There are witches in the mix, but a lot of magical creatures. Pretty much everyone looks confused until they see Vic. Then excitement lights up most of their faces. 

“Party?” someone asks hopefully.

Vic laughs. He waves a hand, and glasses and plates appear in nearly every hand. “Heck yeah, dudes! Let’s party like it’s still 1969!”

“Definitely time to go,” Church says. He hustles Carolina towards the basement steps, and then pauses, his eyes landing on the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign. “Uh, what’s behind there?”

“A dragon’s egg,” Carolina says.

“A dragon’s egg?” Church hisses. When he blinks, he can see dollar signs against the back of his eyelids. He veers a little closer to the door, mumbling, “Do you know how much money you could--”

“Grey would feed you to its mom.”

“Ugh,” Church says, conceding the point.

When they get upstairs, Grey and Kimball are watching television. Grey glances at them, and then her glance turns into a long look. Behind the basement door, voices rise and music starts playing. She lifts an eyebrow, looking curious and less than concerned about the sudden noise. “Having fun?”

“You forgot to mention the genie and the djinn,” Carolina says flatly.

“The--” Grey’s eyes widen. She lets out a high, delighted laugh. “Oh dear, I forgot all about poor Vic! I hope he’s not too angry about his time-out.”

Church shakes his head. “No, Carolina gave him his wishes and he’s having a party.”

“That explains the music. I should go say hello.”

Kimball looks less enthusiastic. "A djinn and a genie at the same party? We should definitely make sure they don't blow up the house.”

Grey just smiles. With a flick of her finger, she changes into a royal purple dress with an amethyst choker and white heels. She gives a little spin, and laughs again when Church offers her a slow, sarcastic clap. “No promises,” she says cheerfully. She points a finger towards Carolina. “Don’t think I haven’t forgotten we still need to work on your food spells!”

“Right,” Carolina says. She looks even less enthusiastic than Kimball. After Grey and Kimball disappear downstairs, she sighs. “That was a waste of time.”

Church smirks. “Well at least the basement will be a different kind of messy now…. And I did get you that favor from the djinn, so you’re welcome.”

“I didn’t say thank you.”

“Yeah, it’s a preemptive you’re welcome.”

Carolina smiles faintly at that.

Church feels his smirk broaden into an answering smile. For a second, things feel almost back to normal. A thought strikes him, and he snickers. “Man, you went to the basement to avoid food spells, right? That didn’t really work out.”

“Not really,” Carolina agrees ruefully. “But I know how to make lemonade now.”

“Sort of,” Church says.

Carolina’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean, sort of?”

“Vic said it wasn’t sweet enough, remember? How do you not make lemonade sweet?”

The flush from earlier returns to Carolina’s face. “You didn't even taste it! Maybe he just has a bigger sweet tooth than you. Besides, lemonade is made from lemons, it's not supposed to be sweet.”

Church squints, trying to figure out if she’s messing with him or actually serious. “Wow, you are so wrong-- I mean, not about the lemons, but who drinks lemonade without sugar?”

Carolina opens her mouth, clearly ready to argue, and then shuts it without a word. Her expression changes. She tugs at her ponytail, running her fingers over the strands as she says, “Um, thanks. For helping with the spells.”

“Any time,” Church says. It comes out more heartfelt than he means, like Caboose has briefly possessed him with sincerity. He immediately makes a face and adds, “Well, not any time, because seriously, I would like to go one month without weird crap happening to us. I mean, a djinn and a genie?”

Carolina snorts. “Pretty sure magic means--”

The basement door swings open. “Carolina! James! You’ll never guess who I found down here,” Grey says, sounding delighted. She emerges with a basilisk curled in her arms.

Church’s panicked scream makes Carolina jump. She’s just starting to look worried as he lunges at her, scrambling to cover her eyes. He squeezes his eyes firmly shut at the same time.

His hands clamp over her eyes. Carolina doesn’t resist, though she jumps again beneath his touch. A second later Church feels her fumbling hands cover his eyes.

For a moment he’s tense, remembering the coiled serpentine body and the tell-tale white diadem mark on its head. He worries that he didn't move quickly enough and that Carolina looked into its eyes. Then Grey giggles.

“Oh, really, James, be sensible. Do you really believe that I’d bring a live basilisk upstairs without any warning? I pride myself on being a decent guardian, and decent guardians don’t turn their wards to stone.”

When Church cautiously pulls away from Carolina and glances in Grey’s direction, he sees that the basilisk is motionless. On closer inspection, he realizes that it’s a stuffed taxidermy, the once-fatal gaze replaced by black stones. He gets annoyed, especially by the way the dead animal is posed, curled up like it’s sleeping in Grey’s arms. He scowls. “Come on. Who keeps a dead basilisk around?”

“Doctor Grey, apparently,” Carolina says. She smiles ruefully at him. “No weird crap for a month, huh? How about we try for a week?”

“Wishful thinking,” Church says, and laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> **Honorable Mention**
> 
> 3x04 - Funny Money - We’re still not sure how the show roped John Fugelsang and Daisy Fuentes into doing an America’s Funniest Home Videos crossover episode, but we are so, so glad that it happened. We loved hearing all the ridiculous things Grif and Church planned to do with their money, from a year's supply of pizza to Church adding a full-on arcade to the house. And the scene where they actually win the ten thousand dollars and Grif almost fails at faking being a cat in front of a live studio audience was hilarious. 
> 
> Plus, we also got the glorious B plot, where Carolina runs interference to avoid Church being grounded for an extra century or two. Instead of grudgingly doing spellwork, she grudgingly tries her hand at potion making with Grey. The cherry on top for the episode was, of course, poor Kimball drinking the Become Animal Tea and becoming a very grumpy peacock. Grey _really_ should’ve labeled that bottle.


End file.
